


lead us out of the darkness

by thirteenandyaz



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 5+1 Things, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining, i guess?, idk what to tag this, it's soft ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 05:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirteenandyaz/pseuds/thirteenandyaz
Summary: “Crowley had been waiting for this moment for almost 6000 years, but now that it had finally come, he almost didn’t know how to react.”Or the five times Crowley wanted to kiss Aziraphale and the time Aziraphale kissed him.





	lead us out of the darkness

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone, long time no see! i haven't written anything in mONTHS but I've been so obsessed with good omens that i simply couldn't resist!  
> just a couple of things to mention, this is my first time writing for this fandom so i apologise if it's too ooc - i tried my best! also, i'm not the most experienced writer but again, i tried my best.  
> last thing, the first five scenarios are little episode inserts that are meant to be like what crowley was thinking at that point i guess? my original story begins at the +1 bit :)  
> hope you enjoy! <3

o n e

When Crowley was being honest with himself about his true feelings for Aziraphale (a phenomenon which happened very rarely in the beginning), he accepted that he had been smitten with the angel ever since he first saw him in the Garden of Eden. However, the first time he had any real desire to act on these… feelings, Crowley figured, was in Rome.

He hadn’t intended to run into Aziraphale in the bar, but when he caught sight of the angel sat on his own, he couldn’t help but raise his voice slightly, hoping he’d hear him. He ignored the fluttering in his chest as he heard Aziraphale calling his name – after all, he was a demon for heav- hell’s sake, he wasn’t supposed to feel things like that.

He wasn’t quite sure why he brought up the fact that he had never eaten an oyster before. It’s not like he had ever had any desire to do so. It didn’t actually matter though, as the minute Aziraphale uttered his next sentence, anything thought of food disappeared from Crowley’s mind.

“Let me tempt you too… oh no,” Aziraphale stammered, smiling almost nervously but with a glint of something else in his eye, something Crowley couldn’t quite place. “No, that’s your job isn’t it.”

Crowley stared at the angel, dumbfounded, his eyebrows raised and a slight blush dusting his cheeks as he watched Aziraphale grin sheepishly. There was only one thought running through his mind – _oh God I could kiss you right now._

If Crowley hadn’t been so absolutely smitten, he would have stopped to consider the irony of their situation. It isn’t every day you see an angel temping a lovesick demon. As it was, Crowley was far too preoccupied with staring at Aziraphale to realise how undemonlike his thoughts were becoming. 

* * *

t w o

From the moment Crowley arrived at the theatre, he knew he was screwed. Not only did it make him stupidly happy that Aziraphale had invited him to the theatre in the first place, his angel was so enthusiastic and excitable that Crowley couldn’t take his eyes off him.

(Vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind Crowley wondered when he had begun to think of Aziraphale as his angel. He figured that was a question for another time.)

His predicament wasn’t helped by the fact that the play in front of him was so inexplicably uninteresting. If he was on his own, or with anyone else, there was no doubting the fact that he would have left by now. Instead however, he took the opportunity to simply gaze at his angel, a small smile tugging at his lips as he desperately tried to steer his mind away from the dangerous territory of _I wonder what you would do if I kissed you._

He would later blame this momentary weakness for the fact that he agreed to perform the miracle as his “treat” for Aziraphale, but he figured that no harm was done in the long term. It wasn’t like improving the success of a play could meddle with God’s ineffable plan too much.

* * *

t h r e e

“The things I do for you, angel,” Crowley muttered under his breath as he hobbled over the consecrated ground, well aware of the fact that he looked like a fool.

He would later say that it felt like walking on a beach in bare feet. This was, in fact, a complete lie. In reality, it felt like he had walked over burning coals and now the soles of his feet were melting. He wasn’t about to let Aziraphale know that, however.

He decided it was worth it. Realistically, he knew he would do anything to save his angel, or to at least make him happy. He supposed this was why he performed yet another miracle to save Aziraphale’s books from destruction. The look on Aziraphale’s face tugged on his heart and led him to quickly brush past the angel before his thoughts strayed into extremely undemonlike territory or anyone saw the blush burning bright on his cheeks, only partly obscured by his glasses. Afterall, demons don’t blush.

(This is what Crowley told himself. In fact, demons could blush, just like anyone else. However, it wasn’t usually due to said demon being in love with an angel.)

He really hoped that downstairs didn’t look to deeply into the miracles he had performed. Sure, they’d like the blowing up a church, but perhaps not so much the saving old books.

* * *

f o u r

“We could go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.”

All it took were those ten simple words for Crowley’s heart to begin beating a little bit faster. He felt a strange sort of lightness within him, a feeling that he only felt when he was with Aziraphale, and a feeling he was almost definite demons weren’t supposed to feel.

It was his desire to remain in this state of lightness which encouraged him to so persistently offer Aziraphale a lift. If he stayed close to his angel, the feeling would remain and maybe, just maybe, this time he’d finally act on his feelings and maybe he’d kiss his angel and he’d never have to feel anything other than this lightness for the rest of eternity and-

“You go too fast for me Crowley.”

All it took were seven short words to bring Crowley’s mood crashing back down again and make him feel almost like he was Falling again. Not for the first time, he was grateful for his glasses which hid the tell-tale tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He could do nothing but watch as his angel got out of the car, leaving him alone. Just a demon and his holy water, and no angel to protect him anymore.

* * *

f i v e

To be completely honest, Crowley didn’t even know why he had so much of an issue with being called “nice”. After all, Aziraphale was unquestionably nice and he loved Aziraphale.

(A little voice in the back of his head whispered to him that it was because he was so fundamentally terrified of what Hell would do to him if they learnt that Crowley really was an awful demon. He pushed that voice aside.)

However, regardless of the reasons why they were in their current predicament, the fact still remained that Crowley currently had Aziraphale pushed up against the wall, holding him in place with his own body.

As he stared at his angel, their noses almost brushing together he was struck by how calm Aziraphale seemed. That thought was quickly replaced by a more pressing one – they were so close. If Crowley simply moved his face forwards, just a few centimetres then-

Crowley has never wanted to kill a person more. Regretfully, he let go of Aziraphale and took a step backwards to deal with the woman who interrupted them. _Next time_ , he promised himself. _Next time._

* * *

\+ o n e

An angel and a demon walk into a restaurant. While that may sound like the beginning of a cheesy joke, I can assure you it isn’t. In fact, this is the beginning of the rest of their lives.

Aziraphale liked to think he was rather observant when it came to Crowley. After 6000 years he figured it was inevitable that he had grown able to detect the smallest changes in the demon’s demeanour. So, when Crowley lifted his glass to toast, Aziraphale noticed the slight tremor in his hand, of course he did. However, a thing to remember about out dear Aziraphale is that, as an angel, he always tries to do the right thing, and often this meant trying to prevent anyone from getting upset. This meant that Aziraphale didn’t initially ask Crowley if anything was wrong. Instead, he simply put the shakiness down to the stress of the Apocawasn’t. Afterall, he didn’t want to upset Crowley.

He would later learn that he definitely should’ve asked the demon what was wrong.

It was a week later, and Crowley and Aziraphale were sat in the backroom of Aziraphale’s bookstore. This in itself was not an uncommon occurrence; in fact, the pair had spent every night of the last week together.

As the night went on, Crowley removed his glasses. This was also becoming a more and more common occurrence, but only ever when him and Aziraphale were alone.

What was uncommon, however, was for Aziraphale to see dark circles resting beneath tired eyes when he looked at his friend. It’s important to remember that demons (or angels for that matter), don’t actually need to sleep. However, Crowley, being Crowley, has developed a habit of sleeping to the point where, like humans, he now relies on sleep to function, much to his annoyance. He has never struggled to sleep either – he once slept for a whole century.

“Oh! Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed, and Crowley turned to look up at his angel, a soft smile gracing his lips, the type that he only ever reserved for Aziraphale. Aziraphale, however, wasn’t smiling.

“My dear, are you alright? You look exhausted!”

The smile slid off Crowley’s face and he fumbled through his jacket until he found a spare pair of his glasses, but Aziraphale gently grabbed his wrist and drew the glasses away from his face.

“Crowley, dear, you don’t need to hide. Just… let me help you?” Aziraphale asked hesitantly, terrified that he’d say the wrong thing and risk upsetting him.

Crowley met Aziraphale’s eyes, and the angel was shocked to see tears welling up in the corners.

“It’s been a hell of a week, angel,” Crowley said, his voice cracking as he let out a dry chuckle.

Aziraphale cast his mind back to the last week and settled on a blurry memory. Not blurry as in he couldn’t really remember it, but blurry as in his vision was literally blurry when he had been discorporated. However, he didn’t need perfect sight to remember the way Crowley’s heartbroken voice had shook when he had found him in the pub.

“Of course,” Aziraphale said, hesitantly. “You lost your best friend. I’m so sorry Crowley.”

At this, Crowley stared at him incredulously. “Angel, who did you think I was talking about?”

“I- I don’t know- Crowley!” Aziraphale stuttered, exclaiming the demon’s name as a single tear escaped the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek.

“I was talking about you, Zira!” Crowley exclaimed, the tears coming more freely now. “I had just been to the bookshop and it was on fire and I couldn’t find you and I thought, well I- I thought you were dead.”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley dumbfounded, before snapping out of it and pulling the sobbing demon into a tight hug, one hand stroking the spot between his shoulder blades which would be between his dark wings, the other resting in his hair.

You must remember at this point, that Crowley usually wasn’t one to show his emotions as obviously as this, not even around his angel. This put Aziraphale in a difficult situation, where he knew he should know how to comfort Crowley, but he was simply at a loss. He decided that the best thing to do was just hold Crowley close and let him cry.

They sat there, Crowley curled against Aziraphale, for what felt like hours. Meanwhile, Aziraphale’s mind was racing and guilt was coursing through his veins. Guilt, for having not noticed the state that Crowley was in despite being with him every day. Guilt, for not knowing how to help him now. Guilt for leaving Crowley in the burning bookshop in the first place. As Crowley’s tears began to cease, Aziraphale began to stir.

“I think a cup of tea will do us both good,” he smiled softly, gently detangling himself from the demon who had wrapped himself around his angel in an almost serpentine way. “Unless you want something stronger?”

But the minute he stood up from the sofa, Crowley’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist and Aziraphale turned to look at him, concern clear in his eyes. His concerned eyes met Crowley’s yellow ones, now ringed with red and supported by clouds of black. Aziraphale had always loved Crowley’s eyes.

“Can’t you stay angel?” Crowley asked, his voice soft, quiet and hesitant, as if he was afraid Aziraphale would refuse.

(There was absolutely no way the angel would ever refuse. Crowley, however, didn’t know this.)

In this state he was so different to the cocky way he presented himself that Aziraphale felt honoured – he knew Crowley only let his walls down around him.

“My dear,” Aziraphale smiled kindly. “I’ll never leave you again, if that’s what you want.” And, before he could overthink it and miss out on yet another opportunity, he leant forward and gently kissed his demon.

Crowley had been waiting for this moment for almost 6000 years, but now that it had finally come, he almost didn’t know how to react. Thankfully, the tiny part of his brain that wasn’t completely freaking out was aware enough to kiss his angel back. Crowley had read enough of Aziraphale’s human books to know that humans often described kissing like fireworks erupting. In Crowley’s opinion, that sounded rather dangerous, and not at all pleasant. Kissing Aziraphale, however, was definitely pleasant. Rather than feeling explosive it simply felt safe, comfortable and so, so _right._ And when Aziraphale pulled back and gently cupped his cheek in his hand, Crowley felt lighter than he ever had before, lighter than he was even before the Fall.

“Promise?” Crowley asked quietly, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Promise.” Aziraphale replied, a smile on his face and love in his heart.

Somewhere above, God looked down on them and she smiled. Her ineffable plan for the “end of the world” was complete. Afterall, it was the end of life the way Aziraphale and Crowley had known it, and the start of the rest of eternity. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i hope it was ok, comments and kudos are very much appreciated :)
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @thirteenandyaz - feel free to come and yell about good omens with me!


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